Friday morning, I arrived at Ever Tower twelve minutes early.
Not because Augustus had finally converted me to his religion of punctuality. I'd simply spent too long standing in front of my wardrobe, trying to decide what a woman wore to work when her boss had also been her first lover two nights earlier.
Apparently, the answer was Armani.
A cream blouse, charcoal trousers, and a lipstick shade that suggested I had slept perfectly well.
I hadn't.
Augustus had given me Thursday off. I'd spent most of it with Biscuit, pretending not to notice that my phone remained silent. He'd sent one message that evening asking whether I'd rested. I'd replied, Yes, thank you.
That was the entire conversation.
At my desk outside his office, I opened his calendar and began reviewing the day's appointments. A Meridian Luxury Group briefing at nine. Supplier correspondence at eleven. A conference call with the finance division after lunch.
Everything had a time and a purpose.
How comforting.
